The GI Bride (34 page)

I thought that the real Spiro would want out
of our relationship when he found out what kind of a situation could erupt without
warning, but he never once even hinted at it. I suppose that was why I tended to believe
that his marriage was as he had told me, in name only, and that they would part as soon
as their daughter left home. It suited me the way it was since I had no desire for a
permanent relationship with anyone at that time in my life. Seemingly, insurmountable
battles had been fought and won and the lessons I had learned along the way had made me
stronger and more confident.

I still had the occasional lunch or dinner
with Pete Huber and Chuck M. and was grateful for their continued friendship; they both
knew of my relationship with Spiro and had advised me to be careful. How comforting it
was to know that I had such good friends and that they genuinely cared about me. Yes, I
was still living in my basement apartment but I had a decent job, my friends around me,
my children were happy, and we had everything we needed, right there in our familiar
neighbourhood.

It had now been approximately ten years
since I had come to America as a sixteen-year-old GI bride, but it seemed a lifetime
since I had stepped off that ship in New York; sometimes it felt like several lifetimes.
I still missed my family and my country and lived for my next trip ‘home’. I
now knew dozens of other former GI brides and we supported each other in different ways;
life in America had finally become easier for most of us. Many of us were now American
citizens, but if anyone ever
heard us talk, they’d know that in
our hearts we would always be British. We had made our home in America but I can’t
think of anyone who didn’t still refer to Britain as home.

Spiro had entered my life when it was at its
lowest ebb. He had helped to make me healthy, strong and confident again; he made me
feel beautiful and cherished. He showed genuine concern and affection for my children
and they had grown fond of him. What more could I want? We were happy with the way
things were, and when the time was right, I knew we would be together for ever. Now,
filled with optimism, I was confident that this man would never hurt, betray or
disappoint me. My future looked bright, and I was no longer afraid of anything.

This GI bride, just one of more than a
hundred thousand, had come a long way, both geographically and metaphorically; I
didn’t know what Fate had in store for me, but at that crossroads of my life, my
children and I were happy, safe and secure, and I was ready for anything the world might
throw at me.

Me on ship enjoying my first day without seasickness.

Me rubbernecking at skyscrapers in New York City.

Bob and me in the Irvines’ back garden. Behind us is the
porch from which we secretly believed the dog commited suicide.

A typical Sunday gathering at the Irvines’.
Left to right
: Bob, me,
my sister-in-law Brenda Jones, Bob’s sister Roberta, Mr Irvine, Mrs Irvine and
Grandma Neuhaus.

Mum and Wayne, on our first visit home to England.

Dr Edward Crown, my obstetrician, guardian angel and saviour. I still believe I
owe him my life.

Bob and Wayne on vacation at Paw Paw Lake, Michigan.

A ghastly glamour shot of me taken from my modelling portfolio –
aged eighteen but looking forty. When my son saw this photo many years later, he
said, ‘Wow, you just don’t see things like that any more.’ Thanks,
Wayne!

Me trying to look sexy for a modelling photo shoot.

On a late-1959 visit to England.
Left to right
: my youngest brother,
Chris; Chuck S. ( if I’d married him I might have avoided a whole lot of
trouble); me; Wayne.